


A Very Fae Bonding Ceremony

by WandersUnderStarlight



Series: What Makes A Monster [12]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bonding, Bonding ceremony, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandersUnderStarlight/pseuds/WandersUnderStarlight
Summary: Mirage and Hound have decided to finally bond, and they want to have their ceremony at The Beat.
Relationships: Barricade/Bumblebee (Transformers), Bluestreak/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Transformers), Hound/Mirage (Transformers), Jazz/Prowl, Ricochet/Smokescreen (Transformers)
Series: What Makes A Monster [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1157918
Comments: 86
Kudos: 213





	1. Upcoming Nuptials

Jazz was puttering around the kitchen in his apartment before he opened The Beat for the dark-cycle when there was a crisp knock on his door. He wasn’t expecting anybot in particular, though the pack was liable to drop by at any moment without warning. But the pack members never knocked, knowing they had a standing invitation from the brothers to just come in.

He answered the door, surprised to find Mirage and Hound standing on his doorstep. They stood shoulder to shoulder, solemn and dignified with their servos linked together.

“Hiya, ‘Raj, Hound. Wha’ brings ya ‘ere?”

“Jazz.” Mirage said in a strange, reserved way. “May we enter your dwelling?”

Concerned, Jazz said, “Ya know both o’ ya are always welcome ‘ere.”

Mirage’s servos twitched and a small smile lit his dermas. “We are coming to you with a rather formal request… Keeper.”

“And certain customs must be performed.” Hound added with his own smile.

“Oh...” Jazz wasn’t exactly sure what ‘customs’ Hound was talking about, but he figured a bit of ceremony would do in place of knowledge. He stepped back and gestured into the living room. “Well then, Mirage o’ th’ Winter Court; Hound o’ th’ Summer Court, please be welcome in’t my ‘ome.”

Mirage swept in through the door as if he were entering a grand space, though the haughty airs were offset by the twinkle of mischief in his optics. “My thanks for your invitation, gentle Keeper.”

Hound entered with a sort of solemn grace, nodding in turn. “Thank you, Keeper.”

Jazz’s processor raced for a few kliks as he shut the door, but instead of guessing he simply asked.

“Do I offer ya refreshments?”

“Oh, yes please, darling, that would be most appropriate.” Mirage said, settling himself on one of the overstuffed couches. Hound sat down next to him as Jazz went into the kitchen for some of the energon goodies he’d made earlier. It always paid to have a supply of them with a pack of constantly hungry beastformers around. After a moment’s hesitation, he also pulled out a bottle of high grade and three small glasses.

He paused in momentary surprise when he came back out of the kitchen to find that the two Fae had shed their glamors, both sitting on his couch in their alien and otherworldly true forms. Mirage’s near-translucent, frost rimed blue armor glitter and gleamed, dazzling in the light. The tingrass spread across Hound’s shoulders and back looked soft, the impressive set of antlers rose from his helm proudly. 

Once Jazz had set down the tray of goodies and poured the high grade, he sat down on the other couch and asked semi-formally, “So, Mirage o’ th’ Winter Court an’ Hound o’ th’ Summer Court, wha’ brings ya t‘ my ‘umble ‘ome?”

Mirage smiled, crystalline ice chiming together sweetly, and clasped servos with Hound. “Hound and I have decided that our courtship has gone on for quite long enough and that we wish to bond.”

A huge grin lit Jazz’s faceplates. “Congratulations! I’m so ‘appy fo’ ya! But… why th’ formalities?”

Hound spoke as he took up his glass of high grade, somehow graceful even with the giant petro-deer tines protruding from his helm. “We would like to request the use of your Neutral Ground as the site of our bonding ceremony. It has been… a very long time since a bonding between different courts has taken place. Our Courts still harbor some resentment towards one another and a safe, neutral space for the occasion is going to be necessary.” Hound offered Jazz a gentle smile. “Not to mention that we like your place. It’s filled with many good memories.”

This being a Fae talking, Jazz wasn’t sure if Hound had meant that last part metaphorically or literally. But his spark warmed with happiness all the same.

“I woul’ be ‘appy t’ host yar bonding ceremony at Th’ Beat.” He tilted his helm curiously. “Bu’ is it gonna be big ‘nough? Are ya plannin’ on a small ceremony?”

Mirage laughed. “My carrier would be _appalled_ at the very idea.” The winter Fae delicately picked up a goodie and nibbled on it. “No, it will be a large, grand occasion befitting “one of my station”. One of the formal requests we would ask of you would be the use of Fae magic to enhance the indoor space, if you would not mind. It would not be permanent. The Fair Folk are very respectful of ritual Neutral Ground. Any changes made would be reversed at the end of the event.”

Jazz considered the thought and then nodded. “Sure. I trust ya.” He sat up and said more officially, “I give ya permission t’ use Fae magic t’ enhance th’ Beat fo’ yar bondin’ ceremony.”

Mirage grinned. “Thank you, darling. The sooner we could get your permission the better. Carrier is determined to plan things _her_ way, but I made sure that the venue and officiant were _our_ choice.”

“Who ya gonna get t’ officiate?” Jazz asked.

“Trailbreaker, of course.” Mirage said with a smile.

“O’ course.” Jazz chuckled, remembering Trailbreaker’s story of “introducing” Mirage and Hound to each other.

Jazz raised his glass of highgrade. “May I be th’ firs’ t’ wish ya a ‘appy bondin’.”

Mirage and Hound tapped their glasses with his. Jazz smiled, spark warming with joy as they both took a sip and then Hound raised their linked servos to his dermas to place a gallant kiss on the back of Mirage’s servo. The Summer Fae had a soft look of adoration on his faceplates. Mirage smiled back tenderly.

Something Mirage had said floated back into Jazz’s thoughts.

“So, yar carrier ‘as opinions ‘bout th’ ceremony?” He asked. Overbearing carriers were nothing new, but throw in other-worlders and anything could happen. 

Mirage sighed tiredly, vents releasing condensed, chilled air. “Oh darling, you have _no_ idea.”


	2. Enter the Creators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz gets an up close look at the pettiness of Fae.

The next step, of course, was to let Mirage and Hound’s creators come to The Beat to both meet Jazz and inspect the space.

The pack had been gently shooed away from the bar by an insistent Jazz. They were reluctant, of course, but the Polyhexian was pretty sure that the Fae would not be cool with a bunch of overprotective beastformers crowding them. They were out “patrolling” their territory.

Jazz could faintly feel the alpha’s steady presence in his spark as he and Prowl had been intimate recently. At least Prowl seemed to be mostly calm despite the edginess of his other packmates. It probably helped that _he_ could feel Jazz as well.

Jazz wasn’t usually one to stereotype... but Mirage and Hound’s creators were all sort of exactly what Jazz had been expecting.

Mirage’s femme carrier, named Hyperborean, was aristocratic with an icy demeanor- or at least her glamor was. None of the Fae had dropped their masking magic. She was tall and lithe with shimmering white and lilac plating. Mirage’s sire was not present, though Hyperborean had brought a pale green minibot with her… an attendant maybe? Jazz wasn’t exactly sure, but he followed after her as she examined every inch of The Beat with a datapad taking notes.

Hound’s creators were boisterous all-terrain alts. His sire was named Bivouac and had brilliantly yellow-gold and orange plating. Hound’s carrier was named Gambol; he seemed a bit more easy-going than his sire, and had deep green plating like Hound’s.

Mirage’s carrier in particular, seemed unhappy. Though whether it was with the thought of her creation bonding or just in general, it was hard to tell. Or maybe it was the Kremzeek sitting on Jazz’s shoulder that was causing her attitude. Whatever it was, she managed to remain cooly polite, unwilling to show disrespect to Jazz as the Keeper and the consecrated Neutral Ground.

“If you are determined to have your ceremony here,” she finally conceded, turning to Mirage, “and the Keeper has graciously allowed the use of our arts, then I suppose, this place will do. It will just need some… rearranging. The space will need to be larger, of course, to accommodate our guests.”

“The florals will be our domain.” Bivouac declared, sending the Winter Fae a challenging look. In the background Hound stifled a sigh.

“Metallic decor will be much more elegant.” Hyperborean objected with a superior look on her faceplates.

“Really?” Hound’s carrier said archly. “For a bonding ceremony, it would be far too… cold and distant.”

“And crystal growths overtaking the ceremony will be nothing but clutter.” The femme declaired imperiously.

Jazz spoke without thinking, just trying to stave off an argument, “Wouldn’t mixin’ ‘em t’gether create somethin’ far more strikin’? I think it woul’ represent both Courts.”

Now, to Jazz’s own audials, this sounded like a fairly standard compromise. The Fae, however, all turned to stare at him as if he’d grown a second helm. Sparky hissed at the sudden and pointed attention being paid to his favorite bot. Jazz made himself look back at them steadily. He wasn’t going to let them intimidate him.

“And what do you know of Courtly decor and representing them?” The icy femme asked.

Jazz frowned. “Wha’ I know doesn’t matter. Wha’ shoul’ matter is if the decorations make Mirage and Hound happy. This is for them, not th’ Courts. But I do know tha’ this is somethin’ o’ great importance. Ain’t every cycle that Folk from different Courts get hitched, right?”

“It is not.” Mirage agreed quietly. He and Hound were sitting together at the end of the table. The Winter Fae was clasping the Summer Fae’s servo tightly. “Hound and I will be the first to do such a thing in several thousand millennia. There has not been such a bonding since the War of the Seasons.”

Jazz nodded, pretending he knew what that meant, while petting Sparky to keep him calm. The last thing he needed was the little imp attempting to attack the much more powerful Fae. Little critter had more bravery than sense sometimes. See: trying to take on a high felida beastformer. Sparky still refused to let Scavenger near him.

“Then it would be quite th’ statement t’ ‘ave a mix of decor t’ emphasize th’ occasion.”

“Humph. I can see why my creation likes you so.” Hyperborean finally said with a small tinge of approval, breaking the tension. “Very well, Keeper Jazz, you may have an interesting idea.”

“Yes! On this we can agree.” Bivouac put in, though he continued to send a challenging look to Mirage’s carrier. “Now… architecture.”

“Arches.” She responded instantly.

“Pillars.” Gambol shot back.

Jazz felt like slapping his forehelm, did they actually disagree, or were they just being contrary to be petty? However, this did bring up an interesting question in his processor. “I assume yar gonna use yar magic t’ make this place bigger on the inside than it actually is, so… ‘ow, ‘xactly, were ya goin’ t’ ‘rearrange’ things?”

Mirage’s carrier smiled in an only _slightly_ patronizing way. “Oh, of course, let me show you. With your permission, of course.” 

When Jazz nodded, she made a motion with her servo and a scale model of The Beat shimmered into existence in the middle of the table between them. She twirled her digits and the walls of the “model” expanded. The bar area stayed pretty much the same, but it moved with the walls. The tables were gone, replaced by metal benches along a long aisle.

Hound’s creators huffed and raised their servos as well, beginning to add things.

Mesh cushions materialized on the benches. Tingrass sprouted, covering the aisle.

A challenging glint entered Hyperborean’s pale optics.

The aisle became lined with floating white archways.

Twisting, ornate pillars took shape, attaching to the archways.

Ice chandeliers came into view, hanging down from the ceiling.

Multicolored crystalline blooms appeared in the chandeliers amongst the ice. 

Back and forth, back and forth, more things were added. It was like watching a voltaic-tennis match, or two younglings playing tug-of-war with a favored toy. Jazz struggled to remain attentive, though he stole a glance at Mirage and Hound from behind his visor. The latter looked chagrined, while the former had an exasperated frown on his dermas.

Tentatively, Jazz tried to intervene, “Yeah, okay, I can see it now.”

But the Fae seemed intent on having the last word… or item placement, in the decor argument they’d started.

Finally Mirage spoke, “Carrier, please. I think that’s quite enough.”

“Creators,” Hound murmured as well, with the tone of long suffering.

The Fae stopped and looked at their creations. Something softened in their countenances. Possibly because they realized that they were making them unhappy.

Mirage’s carrier spoke pleasantly, but crisply, “Oh very well, if you insist.”

Okay, one crisis narrowly avoided. Jazz took a steadying invent.

“Mirage told me tha’ ya’ll ‘ave a caterer arranged, bu’ that’ ‘e’d like fo’ th’ bar t’ be open an’ available. I’m, o’ course, ‘appy to do this. It there a list of drinks an’ potions ya’d like fo’ me t’ ‘ave on servo?”

Both Hound’s creators and Mirage’s carrier produced their own _separate_ lists, staring each other down as they placed them in front of Jazz.

_Dear Primus, give me strength._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally had the color changing dress scene from Sleeping Beauty stuck in my head when the Fae were arguing. :P


	3. The Tale of the War of the Seasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz learns about some of the history of the Fae Courts.

Jazz felt the tensor cables in his shoulder pauldrons relax as he entered Trailbreaker’s shop. In his subspace was the list of drinks and potions the Fae had requested for the bonding ceremony. One list, because Mirage and Hound had helped him consolidate the two that had been thrust at him by their respective creators after said creators had left The Beat.

Sparky had followed him to the witch’s shop, apparently still feeling a little protective. He dropped down out of a lightbulb onto Jazz’s shoulder as soon as the door had closed.

Trailbreaker was behind the counter. He stood when Jazz entered, though he didn’t even twitch when Sparky appeared. 

“Greetings, Keeper Jazz.” He said geanially, “I imagine that you are here to acquire provisions for the bonding ceremony.”

Jazz reset his optical visor. “Yeah… ‘ow’d ya know?”

Trailbreaker smiled. “Not by magic, my friend, Hound contacted me after he and Mirage left The Beat.” The large black mech indicated the empty seat next to him behind the counter. “Come sit. Dealing with one Court of Fae is a taxing endeavor. Having to mediate between both has probably left you quite exhausted, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah, an’ a lil’ bit annoyed, if I’m honest.” He admitted freely coming around the counter to sit. Sparky settled down over Jazz’s shoulders with a tiny purr, the imp's energy-body spreading like a shawl over his pauldrons. “Where’s Moonracer?”

A touch of pride suffused Trailbreaker’s EFM. “She is out assisting one of her own clients at the moment.” He sat back down with a small smile. “As for your Fae guests, annoying though their squabbling might be, I far prefer their petty rivalries now than the deadly feud of times long past.”

Jazz suddenly found himself quite interested. “Mirage mentioned somethin’ ‘bout a War. I didn’ know th’ Fae ‘ad fought each other b’fore.”

“Oh yes,” Trailbreaker said, sounding a bit sad, “they warred with one another, to a terrible and tragic end.”

At Jazz’s confused look, Trailbreaker said gently, “There are four seasons in nature Jazz, but only two Courts of Fae remain.”

“Wha’? Ya mean, th’ Spring an’ Autumn Courts don’ exist? Bu’ we still ‘ave those seasons. I think mortals would ‘ave noticed if two seasons suddenly vanished.”

The witch nodded, “The physical seasons still exist, yes, but the Fae with the ability to draw upon the magic of those seasons are gone.”

“Because o’ th’ war?”

Trailbreaker nodded solemnly.

“Will ya tell me ‘bout it? I don’ want t’ go int’ this event blind… Unless ya don’ want t’...”

“No, you should be armed with the knowledge. I will tell you about the War of the Seasons.”

Trailbreaker straightened and made a small motion with his digits. The cheerful “open” sign hanging in the window flipped itself to “closed”. Then he reached under the counter and pulled out two small cups and a bottle of what looked like blue engex, though it shimmered in an interesting way. He poured a bit for each of them and said, “This is infused with gypsum- for memory. A moment, allow me to warm it for you.” He subtly circled the tops of the cups with his servos and murmured softly under his breath. A moment later the two cup were steaming slightly.

Jazz thanked him and took up the cup for a sip.

Trailbreaker drank a bit and then began to speak in that low thunder-rumble of his,

“Several millennia ago, there were four great Courts of Faire Folk. The Spring Court known as The Court of Awakening. Their power encompassed rebirth, growth, discovery and desire. The Summer Court; The Court of Contests. Theirs are the powers of strength, brotherhood, truth and wrath. The Autumn Court, called The Court of Deflection, worked their magic through knowledge, adaptability, decay and fear. And the Winter Court- The Court of Secrets. Their power comes from concealment, repose, resistance and preservation.

“The war was sparked when the monarch of the Summer Court committed some unforgivable offense against the Queen of the Winter Court. No Fae seems to remember what that particular offense was, or if they do, they have secreted it away in remorseful sorrow.

“The war between the Summer and Winter courts lasted for countless vorns, always locked in stalemate. The Winter Queen grew enraged by the Spring and Autumn Courts’ attempts to mediate. To her processor, they should have chosen their sides (her side) and joined in the fighting.

“With her rage came madness. She devised wilder, darker, and more dangerous schemes to bring down her enemies as time dragged on, uncaring of the casualties to her own Court that such plans caused. Until, finally, she discovered what she believed to be the way to ensure her victory.

“She traveled to the coldest and darkest place on Cybertron. There she entreated with dark spirits of starvation, deprivation, and sharp, bitter blizzards. They whispered promises of power and dominion, corrupting what was left of her processors. She took these dark spirits into herself, becoming the Fell Winter Queen. A mere shade of the Fae she had once been, but glutted with dark magic. No longer did she need or want the assistance of her Court. She only wished for the destruction of those who had opposed her and to bring an unending winter to the world.

“When she returned, she attacked the Spring and Autumn courts first for daring to ‘defy’ her in their attempts to find peaceful resolutions to the conflict. She deactivated them all.

“Once her Court realized what she had done, they turned against her. They crowned her creation as their new king and sought out the Summer Court to make peace. Only together could they defeat her.

“With their combined effort, they locked her away in some deep, dark place in the Faerealm. Such was the destruction that she wrought, that the Winter Court took on a new aspect: sorrow.

“To this cycle, the Summer and Winter Courts keep the peace, fearing a reignition of hostilities would reawaken the Fell Winter Queen to once again wreck her destruction on the Fae. Any lasting resentment is expressed by trivial arguments, masking sadness.”  
Trailbreaker finally fell silent. He took a sip of his drink, looking a bit tired and sad.

It took Jazz a few breems to break the silence between them. “...Tha’s… tha’s ‘eavy, mech.” He said finally, looking down into his cup.

The black mech sighed and gave a small smile. “It is. But that’s why Mirage and Hound bonding is so uplifting. It will be the first bonding of different Courts since the war. And I am happy that my actions, even as inadvertent as they were, were the catalyst.”

“Tha’s right,” Jazz remembered with a smile of his own. “Ya’re th’ reason they met. Sweet o’ ‘em t’ want ya t’ officiate.”

Trailbreaker chuckled, breaking the sombre atmosphere, “I supposed I’m a good choice, at that. Primus knows that they’d never finish the ceremony if a Courtier was officiating. The other Court would keep interrupting telling them how they were doing it wrong. Also, lucky for you, because if it wasn’t me, you’d likely have been asked.”

“Well, thank goodness, then. I don’ think my nerves could’a taken it,” Jazz laughed. Sparky perked up, trilling along. “An’... thanks fo’ tellin’ me.”

Trailbreaker nodded his helm, “Of course. Now, let us take a look at that list of yours, and perhaps after, you can have a look around the shop. We’ve gotten in a few new things that I think you would find interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Storytime with Trailbreaker!


	4. Ceremony Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz deals with more Fae shenanigans giving him a helmache.

Trailbreaker was more than willing to provide the items that the Fae had requested for the bar. He and Moonracer were going to brew them fresh and bring them to The Beat on the day of the ceremony.

Jazz had only picked up a few fresh mineral powders when he was at the shop despite browsing the magical items. Though he’d been _very_ tempted by the cute candy-shaped magnetic brooch that was enchanted to ensure that any goodie the wearer made turned out right.

Maybe next time if it was still there.

Preparations for the ceremony continued at a steady, if argumentative, pace. Jazz found himself hosting more Fae at The Beat in the following deca-cycles than he had in the entire time The Beat had been open. They were all friends or entourages of Hound and Mirage or their creators. When both Courts were present, Jazz was pulled back and forth between them, playing referee.

It was as if they had a silent competition going on as to who could put in the most orders and take up most of Jazz’s time. The Polyhexian leaned heavily on Bumblebee’s help during those dark-cycles. The pack tried to be helpful, but they didn’t always succeed.

And when the creators were present, Jazz was suddenly being asked for his opinion on _everything_. He hadn’t realized that he’d be signing up to be the Ceremony Director when he’d allowed The Beat to be the venue. He was shown mixed crystal and metal arrangements, fantastical fabrics, impossible candy sculptures and huge wall murals. It was enough to make his helm spin.

In every case, he made sure that Mirage and Hound were given final say, but in a way that made it look like he was mediating.

Thank Primus the bonding ceremony was in a mere orn. It had seemed, at first, like a short time to plan, but Mirage and Hound were _ready_ and Fae magic made short work of a lot of things.

The creators’ sniping was still annoying, but now that Jazz knew the long history behind them, it also sort of made him sad. And very determined to make sure that the ceremony went off without a hitch.

They’re latest disagreement was on which of their creations should be escorted up the aisle to the other. When an expectant look was leveled on him by Mirage and Hound’s carriers, Jazz suggested that they both be escorted. With that proposition, the Fae agreed to compromise. There would be a T-shaped aisle, Mirage and Hound would come from opposite sides (escorted, of course) to converge where Trailbreaker was standing in front of the room. Then at the conclusion of the ceremony, they would walk down the center aisle together.

It was exhausting.

“Thank you for putting up with all of this.” Mirage murmured to him sympathetically one evening as the bar was closing. “I know it can’t be very fun for you.”

Jazz was wiping down one of the tables. It was just him, Bumblebee, Barricade, Prowl and Mirage left. The contingent of Fae that had invaded that evening had been from the Summer Court and had firmly been herded out by Hound a few breems earlier. The green Fae was one of the sweetest, most patient mechs Jazz knew, but he was not a pushover. And he’d sensed when his brethren were starting to overstay their welcome.

Jazz offered Mirage a warm, if tired, smile. “I’m doin’ it fo’ ya an’ Hound, ya deserve t’ be ‘appy.”

Mirage hugged him; the cold, clean scent of freshly fallen snow flowed over Jazz’s olfactory. The preparations were obviously beginning to take their toll on the winter Fae as well. It was rare that cool, aloof and unflappable Mirage sought comfort.

When Mirage had pulled out of the embrace Jazz spoke again, attempting to lighten the mood, “But this better not become a new Fair Folk trend. No more bonding ceremonies at Th’ Beat after yars.”

It had the intended effect and Mirage laughed.

As the Polyhexian turned back to the task of wiping the table he remembered a question that had been bothering him. “‘Ey, can I ask ya somethin’?” Jazz questioned hesitantly.

Mirage tilted his helm curiously, a bit of apprehension in his stance. “What is it, darling?”

“Where’s yar sire in all this?”

Because since the beginning, Jazz had not seen plate nor wire of anybot claiming the title.

“Oh,” Mirage said, sounding airily unconcerned, though there was a definite note of relief in his voice. “Carrier raised me herself, I don’t know who my sire is. One of the other courtiers she had a dalliance with, I’m sure, but that is Carrier’s secret to tell.”

“Okay, so nothin’ t’ be concerned with?” Jazz asked, just to make sure.

“Oh no, darling, no terrible winter sires to deal with.”

“So, she raised ya by ‘erself? Without any ‘elp?”

The Fae shrugged. “Well, the rest of the Court will always assist if needed with a new Fae.”

“Bet ya were a lil’ hellion.” 

“I _have_ always had a streak of mischief, I will admit,” Mirage said, optics twinkling, “but you mustn’t think of young Fae as sparklings, darling. We come into being more like your Vector Sigma mechs, though our carriers do indeed carry our sparks with their own until we are ready to be ensparked. I’ve always had this form and my abilities, I just needed to be instructed.”

Jazz reset his optical center.

“Wha’?”

Mirage laughed again at his bamboozled expression, though not unkindly. “Fae sparks aren’t like mortal sparks. You’ll see.”

“I’ll… see?”

It was Mirage’s turn to look confused for a moment before understanding cleared his expression.

“Ah, right, I forget that you don’t know the rites.”

Which is how Jazz found out that Hound and Mirage would be going through their bonding ceremony with their sparks exposed. It was a Fae tradition, so Mirage was unperturbed by it, but to Jazz it seemed uncomfortably intimate, bordering on obscene. He said nothing about his misgivings, though, not wanting to offend his friend.

It was just a different tradition, like different city-states had their own traditions... Except with magic. And open spark chambers.

After Mirage took his leave, Barricade and Bumblebee left. The boltjackal was ‘walking Bumblebee home’, though it was really unnecessary. The cursed minibot obviously enjoyed the company, a bright smile on his face as he clasped servos with the beastformer and trotted out the door.

Jazz smiled as he watched the two of them leave. A warm brush of Prowl’s EMF warned the visored mech before the alpha’s arms encircled him from behind. Prowl nuzzled in the space where Jazz’s neck met his jaw. A kiss in the same place followed.

“You’ve been working so hard, my Jazz.” The beastformer murmured softly into the cables of his neck. “You’re done for tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Ricochet was out of town, off on a shipping venture in Crystal City.

Jazz leaned back into Prowl’s embrace, prompting a pleased rumble and a soft snuffle as Prowl scented his neck. Being pampered by his loving and attentive beastformer beau sounded really good, actually.

“I can get b’hind tha’.”

Jazz totally did _not_ yelp like a startled puppy when Prowl picked him up to carry him upstairs.


	5. Transforming the Venue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for The Beat to get a temporary upgrade.

Jazz could have composed and sung an entire hymn book to Primus. It was _finally_ the cycle of the bonding ceremony.

The morning of the ceremony, Ricochet, who was back from his business trip, had helped Jazz shine up his plating to an acceptable level. The moment he’d entered The Beat, Sparky had been up on his shoulder, seemingly able to sense that something big was about to happen.

Hyperborean had briefly suggested using magic to hide what Sparky was during the planning stages, but Jazz had refused. If any of the guests had a problem with the little imp, they could leave. Mirage’s carrier hadn’t mentioned it again.

A relatively small group of Fae had gathered at The Beat. Hound and Mirage (of course) and their creators, a small retinue from each Court to make sure the schedule and ceremony ran smoothly and... the King and Queen of both courts. It was the royals who would lay the spells upon the space to make it into the magical venue for the ceremony. 

That, more than anything, brought home to Jazz just how important this bonding was going to be for both Courts. 

Only after they had cast the enchantments would the guests be allowed in. 

Once the door of the bar had been closed, the Fae shed their glamors. 

And Jazz suddenly found himself in the company of strange and fantastical creatures.

Hound’s carrier, Gambol, looked like a sort of half-mech, half petro-deer creature with short, stubby horns, while his sire had tingrass sprouting all over his plating that seemed to flicker and waver with wind. The King and Queen of the Summer Court were even more strange and alien. The King looked like he was made of sunlight and gold and the Queen had striated crystal-bark plating, like an ancient tree.

Hyperborean’s plating looked to be made of ice in every shade of blue imaginable. Icicles cascaded down from her helm. Hyperborean’s “mini-bot” attendant looked as if he were nothing but a skeletal protoform. The Queen of the Winter Court had black titanium feathers covering his entire frame and flat, black optics set in an avian face. And the King was completely covered by a black and blue floor length cloak with a deep cowl. A set of pale blue optics were the only things visible from under the darkness of the hood and long, translucent claws peeked out from the sleeves.

The other Fae were just as fantastical, but fortunately, instead of making a fool of himself by gawking at them, Jazz was quietly urged to stand in the middle of the room by Mirage and Hound. Right on the usually invisible magic seal that denoted The Beat as Neutral Ground. The couple stood on either side of him, their creators stood behind and beyond them stood the retinues. The four monarchs approached him, bowing solemnly. He bowed back respectfully (Mirage had told him _some_ things to expect).

The four monarchs then turned and bowed to each other. A frisson of… _something_ ran up Jazz’s spinal strut. They separated and took up positions in the four corners of the room. Under each of the elemental foci, in fact. The Winter King was under metal, the Winter Queen under oil, the Summer King under lightning, and the Summer Queen under smoke.

It was on Jazz’s glossa to ask if they should move out of the middle of the room, but before he could get the question out the monarchs lifted their servos. 

Jazz could _feel_ when the Fae magic began to pour into the space. It crawled over his plating like a living thing, swirling and filling The Beat. Then the walls and ceiling began to move out and up. Magic filled and filled the area, spilling over and into Jazz’s frame somehow. He felt both slightly drunk and also as if he could pick up the entire building.

Jazz had to turn off his visor as the room spun in a disorienting waver. Sparky tucked into a tight defensive ball against Jazz’s helm. Mirage put a steadying servo on Jazz’s opposite shoulder when he swayed slightly. “Ah, apologies, darling, I forgot that such an upwelling of magic in your Grounds would affect you. It will pass in a moment.”

He felt the magic ebb and flow around him dizzily for a few more kliks before it settled in the room, like a slow flowing current. He turned his visor back on and looked around. Sparky uncurled with him, chirping curiously. 

Objects and decorations were in the much bigger space just as they had appeared in the small scale model. White pillars with beautiful arches, silver colored metal benches, intricately embroidered meshes and extensive murals on the walls. Icey chandeliers and freshly blooming crystals. The tin-grass covered T shaped aisle and the bar, now moved to the far opposite wall.

It was absolutely gorgeous.

Jazz looked around with wonder. “Wow.”

Mirage smiled, also gazing about the space. “Yes, despite the long road to get here, it is simply beautiful.”

“I am glad it is to your liking, my creation.” Hyperborean murmured with a soft look to Mirage. She then straightened with a chime of the icicles trailing from her helm, and looked at Hound’s creators. “Now then, I think it is time for the Intendeds to be made ready, don’t you agree?”

And, surprisingly enough, Gambol smiled, nodding, “Yes, yes. Come along, my dear.” He took Hound by the servo and led him towards one side of the room.

Hyperborean herded Mirage towards the other side.

They all seemed to disappear into the walls, but Jazz knew that there were hidden spaces there behind layers of Fae magic. Rooms for the couple to be separately polished and dressed.

The retinues scattered about the space to do whatever it was they were supposed to do.

Jazz commed Bumblebee and Trailbreaker, letting them know they could come in. The mini-bot was going to help him by manning the bar during the initial gathering of guests and later during the reception. And, well, the witch was the officiant.

After a few moments, the yellow-plated mini, the large black mech and his apprentice slipped into The Beat. Bumblebee looked around in awe and then sent a smile at Jazz as he made his way over to the bar. Trailbreaker and Moonracer also headed to the bar, likely to unload the potions they’d brewed, a gentle and bright greeting respectively given as they passed.

Jazz hid his surprise when the Winter King bowed to the witches in response.

Hound’s sire, Bivouac, moved to stand next to Jazz on his right and the Winter King came to stand on Jazz’s left. Which… was a little intimidating. But the Polyhexian had been informed that the King was to stand in for Mirage’s sire since they were, well, ‘unknown’. The three of them were to greet the guests as they entered.

Jazz took a steadying in-vent and then focused on the entrance of The Beat. He willed the door to be open, issuing a silent welcome to those invited to the bonding ceremony.

More Fae began entering, glamor falling from their frames in shimmering waves. The pack also entered, headed by Prowl, with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in tow. Prowl hadn’t really been able to object when Bluestreak had made them his “plus ones”. Ricochet was present as well, Smokescreen pressed up against his side as they walked in.

Jazz greeted them the same as the other guests, but he favored them with a warm smile, feeling a bit less nervous with their presence.

Greeting guests took what felt like joors, but Jazz couldn’t be sure if that was his own perception or Fae magic messing with him. Because Mirage had warned him that that might be a thing. Though, he’d also been assured that no Fae-magical-time-warping-shenanigans would affect any of the mortals present adversely.

But finally, all the guests had arrived and Jazz, along with the sires (or sire and sire-stand-in), were able to mingle.

Jazz first headed towards the bar, both to check on Bumblebee and to get himself a fortifying drink. Unsurprisingly, Jazz found Barricade hanging around the bar with Bumblebee. Moonracer was also there talking animatedly with a Fae with shimmering scales, like a neon-lizard.

After greeting the bots at the bar, he stepped around to the back of it and gently placed Sparky in his little steel wool nest.

“Why don’ ya stick with Bee fo’ me, yeah? Keep an optic on ‘im.” 

Sparky flicked a look at the mini-bot and then snuggled down into his nest with a contented trill. Jazz fed the imp a battery and grabbed some engex.

He had a feeling he was going to need it.


	6. The Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, the actual ceremony.

Fortunately, it was not Jazz’s job to keep the production of this bonding ceremony moving. That was left to the retinues brought by the couple’s creators. The “cocktail joor” for lack of a better term lasted for a while. Jazz wasn’t actually keeping track of the time because of Fae shenanigans.

He was just trying to enjoy the beauty and ambiance of the venue without thinking too hard on the spacial improbabilities. He was also trying to ignore how the Fae magic was still pressing up and moving against his plating like a lazy cryo-snake.

Jazz found himself leaning into Prowl’s steady warmth as he greeted and spoke with members of both Courts. They, at least, seemed to be on their best behaviors for the occasion. The alpha rumbled a soothing subsonic and flared his doorwing out to cover Jazz’s back. The message was clear to anybot looking.

Jazz noticed that Smokescreen was similarly sticking close to Ricochet, not quite successfully masking his glares at flirting Fair Folk, but, fortunately, managing to hold his glossa to avoid offending them.

Meanwhile, Barricade was still hanging around the bar with Bee, but Jazz had full confidence in the mini-bot’s ability to both temper the bolt-jackal’s temper and assuage any metaphorical (and maybe literal) ruffled feathers with the application of free refreshments.

No bot was bothering Bluestreak, but that was probably because of the intimidating-looking selkie on each of his arms. Either because they were giving off very obvious “back off, ours!” vibes or because selkies were some ancient off-shoot of Fae. Not considered Fair Folk, themselves, but more like very distant relations.

Nightbeat, Skids and Streetwise, however, were very much enjoying the attention of the Fae who were willing to speak to them.

Trailbreaker and Moonracer, as well, were mingling quite freely. Though, Jazz did notice that Trailbreaker spent a long, long time speaking to the Winter King and Queen off to the side of the room.

After some predetermined set of time, Hyperborean’s attendant called the assembly to attention.

“The creators of the Intended would now like to lay their blessings on the ceremony.”

He stepped to the side. Gamblo, Bivouac, Hyperborean and the Winter King stepped forward. Jazz hadn’t even seen the carriers emerge from the hidden rooms, but for all he knew, they had actually been invisible.

Hyperborean kissed the tips of her digits and then blew across them softly. Glittering snowflakes drifted out as she drew her servos apart and began to speak. The Winter King lifted his servos in tandem, though he did not speak. In fact, Jazz realized, he hadn’t actually _heard_ the mech speak the entire time he’d been there.

“Dear friends and guests, on this most esteemed celebration of our creation’s bonding, we would lay upon this ceremony a blessing of protection on all who partake in this cycle’s revelry. May this blanket of refuge shield you.”

The magical snowfall drifted to lay on the assembly’s helms and shoulders. It was not cold, in fact, it tingled pleasantly.

Jazz hadn’t realized that the blessings were going to be actual _magic_ blessings.

Bivouac and Gambol then clasped their servos together, a warm golden ball of magic growing where they were joined, and Hound’s carrier spoke. 

“Dear friends and guests, on this most joyous occasion of our creation’s bonding, we would lay upon this ceremony a blessing of truth on all who are present for these festivities. May this light of honesty clear your optics.”

The golden magic washed over them just like a warm beam of sunshine.

When Jazz’s optics readjusted, he was surprised to see that the beastformers had an ethereal canis shape around their helms. Ricochet was, in fact, trying to touch the audial shells over Smokescreen’s helm to comedic effect. The selkies’ cloaks also had a shimmering sheen of magic to them.

“Uh, wha’s with th’...?” Jazz asked Prowl, gesturing around his helm. But Prowl looked just as confused as he felt. He brushed down Jazz’s arm and the Polyhexian was startled to see the runes that usually only appeared when he was tapping into The Beat’s magical reserve were lit with a golden glow.

“You’ve been granted truesight.” One of the Fair Folk standing near them explained helpfully; a bot who looked to be made completely of obsidian. “It is a rare gift among Fae, and even rarer to be bestowed upon mortals. Normally it would also allow you to see past our glamors, but since none of us are in glamor…” They shrugged craggy shoulder pauldrons. “The Creator’s Blessings will only last for the duration of the ceremony.”

Jazz thanked them for the information.

The assembly was then invited to find their seats. As the bots began to do so, Jazz was momentarily startled by Sparky landing on his shoulder with a worried churr. With a frown, Jazz looked over at the bar. He didn’t see Bumblebee. He glanced around at the other guests. Still no Bumblebee.

But he did see the tip of a black pede just sticking out from behind the bar.

Ah yes, no Barricade in sight either.

Nonchalantly, and with a passing pulse of confidence to Prowl, he walked over to the bar. When he looked over the countertop he witnessed his employee in the midst of a tiny crisis and Barricade ineffectually trying to calm him down.

“They’re going to see me for the monster that I am.” Bumblebee was whispering in panic.

The mini-bot was sitting behind the bar with his knees drawn up to his chest with Barricade crouched beside him. The bolt-jackal looked up at Jazz with something like relief.

“Look, here’s Jazz,” the black and silver mech whispered.

Jazz couldn’t see anything wrong at first when Bee turned frightened optics up at him. Then he slowly turned that thought over in his processor again. He didn’t see any indication of Bee’s other-worlder form. With the truesight granted to him by the truth blessing, there should have been some indication of… something, right?

He remembered that Prowl had said that spark-eaters were difficult to identify, but that may have just been by mortal means. This was Fae magic meant to show the true nature of beings.

“Ya look like ya normally do, Bee.” 

Bumblebee’s optics paled, and he uncurled from his defensive position just enough for Jazz to see a sickly purple glowing mark on his chestplates right over his spark. The Polyhexian’s mouth opened in surprise. He glanced at Barricade, who responded by nuzzling the side of the mini-bot’s helm, obviously attempting to offer comfort.

Jazz processor raced. “Ya know I got yar back, Bee. Ain’t nobot gonna ‘urt ya on my watch. Ya’re not a monster… ya’re cursed.” As Jazz spoke the runes on his arms flared gently. He was just as surprised as the two hiding behind the bar when a short, black cloak materialized in his servos accompanied by a small burst of snowflakes. Sparky gave a chirp of consternation and tried to eat some of the magical snow fluttering around, snapping at air.

Jazz suddenly remembered that the Winter Court had _also_ granted a blessing. And they sure were fond of their secrets.

Out of the corner of his optic he saw one of the Fae from the Winter retinue coming towards him. Quickly, Jazz stepped behind the counter and tucked the cloak around Bee’s shoulder pauldrons. To his satisfaction, when the cloak was clipped in place, the mark disappeared.

“Come on ya two,” He said louder, “no need t’ tidy up now, plenty o’ time t’ put glassware away later.”

Barricade helped the mini-bot stand. Bee still looked wary of the Fae coming near them, but the other-worlder just requested that they go find their seats so that the ceremony could begin.

“Thank you.” Bumblebee whispered shakily to Jazz, pulling the cloak tighter around himself.

Jazz gave a soothing smile, and a warm press of his EMF.

They joined the rest of the guests, now sitting on the cushioned metal benches. Jazz sat next to Prowl, gently moving Sparky to his lap so Prowl could wrap an arm around his shoulder. There was no way the imp would stay put over in his nest behind the bar. Better to have him in a spot where Jazz could keep an active optic on him.

Trailbreaker stood at the crossing of the T-shaped aisle. On one side of the front path a billowing white fog obscured the end of it from sight, Hyperborean and the Winter King standing in front of it. The other side was similarly concealed by a tangle of overgrown vines and crystal blooms with Gambol and Bivouac standing in front of it.

Trailbreaker lifted his servos, gesturing to each of the waiting creators. “Bring forth the Intendeds.”

On Winter’s side, the fog dissipated. Mirage stood in raiments of pure white, cobalt blue and shimmering silver. Long, draping translucent meshes that billowed around him gracefully. Over his helm, a small gathered cloud snowed down tiny motes of silver light, forming a sort of glittering veil. Behind him snow dusted the floor. Jazz could just see through the veil that Mirage’s chestplates were indeed open, sparkling blue spark on display. But his spark was nothing like anything Jazz had ever seen.

Mortal sparks were just energy contained by a casing. Not so with Fae sparks.

They were physical things; three-dimensional, many pointed stars with small diamond shaped crystals orbiting them. Wispy tendrils of light connected them to the open chestplates.

And Jazz found himself wondering how in Primus’ name they were supposed to bond physical sparks like that.

On Summer’s side, the vines and crystals fell away revealing Hound. He was bare of any clothing except for a mesh draped over his pelvic plating. His helm and petro-deer horns had been wreathed with all manner of growing things. Motes of golden sunlight danced around him, reflecting off his own star-shaped golden spark. Heat rolled off of him in comforting waves.

But even with all of the magical ambiance and the exposed sparks, the pure joy that lit both of his friend’s faces when they saw each other was what caught and kept Jazz’s attention.

As they walked down the aisle toward each other escorted by their creators it was like they were bringing their seasons with them to meet.

Trailbreaker smiled warm and wide. “I welcome you to this meeting of sparks and love. Who is to be united on this cycle?”

“Our eldest creation, Hound.” Bivouac and Gambol said.

“My only creation, Mirage.” Hyperborean replied.

“Is this the wish of those named?” Trailbreaker asked.

“It is.” Mirage’s cultured voice asserted confidently.

“Yes, it is.” Hound rejoined.

Trailbreaker made a motion and the creators stepped aside. Gambol and Bivouac hugged Hound hard, while Hyperborean favored Mirage with a gentle kiss to his cheekridge. There was a pause as they stepped off the aisle and were seated. Then Mirage and Hound walked the rest of the way to meet in the middle. Trailbreaker held out his servos to them. They each gave him their right servos. He drew their servos together, clasping them between his large palms.

“As two sparks join to become one, this cycle you are holding the hands of your best friend, full of love for each other. As you promise to love each other forever may Primus bless this union. Be joined together in love and light on this cycle.”

As the witch spoke a flowing tendril of white energy emanated from his servos, winding and wrapping around and over the two Fae’s wrists. When Trailbreaker took his servos away, the thread of energy was left wound around their clasped servos.

The witch spoke again, “Now is the time for vows, spoken in front of your witnesses.”

Mirage smiled, voice full of happiness and a touch of teasing at first, “My lovely groundskeeper, you are the promise of light in the darkest night.” His voice steadied into seriousness. “You are my hope of all the good things to come. You, I will always love, my soulmate.”

Jazz heard Hyperborean vent in sharply, but she did not interrupt.

Hound spoke next, sincerity and joy in his words, “My beautiful dream, you are the balm of a cool breeze in midsummer. You are the wellspring of my delight. You, I will always love, my soulmate.”

“And now you shall bond your sparks in front of your witnesses.” Trailbreaker uttered solemnly.

With their free servos Mirage and Hound each plucked one of the orbiting diamond-shaped crystals from around their sparks. They locked optics and declared in unison. “This, I give to you freely.”

The crystals floated from their servos, crossing each other and then settled into new orbits around the opposite sparks.

The white tendril of energy glowed bright and blinding for a klik and then it dimmed and winked out.

Trailbreaker threw out his servos and boomed, “Bonded together, I now pronounce these Fae mates. May their love endure and grow only stronger. So mote it be.”

With a mischievous little smirk, Mirage yanked Hound’s helm under his little “veil cloud” and proceeded to kiss him senseless.

The room erupted into cheers, whoops and hollering.

Jazz was among the ones making a ruckus when he got a strange, almost _swooping_ sensation in the pit of his tank. As if he’d briefly been in freefall and then grounded again. And he wasn’t the only one who felt it, either. All of the magically inclined seemed to have felt the same thing. Even Mirage and Hound broke their kiss.

“What was that?” Mirage asked worriedly.

The gathered Fae murmured to themselves while the pack looked confused and Ricochet asked Jazz softly under his breath, “Wha’ was wha’? Why’s everybot gettin’ freaked out?”

Trailbreaker broke through the uneasy chatter. “There is no need to fret, my friends. I believe that was merely our new bondmates’ magic settling together.”

“That’s not happened before, though.” Gambol pointed out.

“Because the bonding did not take place between different Courts.” Trailbreaker explained gently.

This set the Fae to excited babble. Trailbreaker somehow managed to break through all the noise again, even though he never raised his voice. “Let us speculate during the reception, shall we? It is time to celebrate the beginning of our new bondmates’ journey together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used a mix of handfasting ceremonies and solstice blessings to get the dialog of the ceremony and vows.
> 
> Also, I didn't mean to traumatize Bee...
> 
> Also, also, my listening suggestion for the ceremony is "Ori, Embrace the Light" from Ori and the Will of the Wisps. I basically had it on repeat while I was writing the scene.


	7. Reception Party Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reception party time!

The Fae retinue wove a lattice of magic that transmuted the cushioned benches into long tables. The newly bonded pair was seated at one at the front of the room. Their sparks had somehow folded in on themselves like weird mass displacement to fit back into their chestplates. Everybot else was settled into seats along tables positioned perpendicular to the head table.

Mirage and Hound had opted for a very mortal reception party. Dinner (though magically provided), music and dancing.

The dinner was a lavish affair, with three courses. Jazz could only describe the dishes as fantastical edible art that appeared at their table settings. Empty plates and platters were whisked away by sweeps of magic at the end of each course.

Music seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

Once the last of the fuel had been consumed and the tables and chairs magicked away, the lighting in the room dimmed to a soft, ethereal glow. Hound offered Mirage his servo and the two of them began to dance. Tiny, multicolored motes of light filled the air around them. Jazz didn’t know if that was from their own magic or the ambient magic flowing like an undercurrent in The Beat.

After the first dance, everybot was invited to join the couple on the dance floor. Sparky allowed Bumblebee to act as his shoulder perch when Prowl led Jazz out for a dance. The free floating lights hanging about them looked like hundreds of twinkling stars.

Jazz grinned up at Prowl who leaned down to steal a kiss with a soft rumble emanating from his chest. The polyhexian then laid his helm on the beastformer’s chestplates as they continued to sway together.

Jazz felt another sort of _shift_ in the room. It was like somebot had opened the door of a warm building during the winter and let a draft in. He looked around, curiously. It wasn’t difficult to see that something had changed.

There was a new mech standing in the room. He had not been one of the original guests. The Fae were keeping a healthy distance from him, opticking him with something approaching wariness. He had the definite look of a Winter Fae, armor coated in a rime of frost.

“Who is tha’?” Jazz asked, feeling like he should whisper.

A voice beside him answered lowly, causing him to jump slightly in Prowl’s arms. “That is the Wasteland Seer.” It was the Queen of the Winter Court. The feathers covering the mech ruffled and smoothed in an apprehensive ripple down the mech’s plating. “He was banished from Court at the end of the War when it was proved that his meddling was one of the catalysts of the conflict.”

Hyperborean stepped toward the new mech. “Augur. I don’t remember inviting you to this event.”

The mech laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Conveniently leaving me off the guest list won’t get the newly bonded out of their destiny.”

“Spare us your crazed prophecies, you charlatan.” Hyperborean snapped.

The mech cackled again. “Just because you ignore my prophecies, does not make them false. In fact if you had listened to me, perhaps your lover would have not fallen quite so far.”

Hyperborean looked stricken.

Auger turned away from her and zeroed in on Mirage and Hound. The white and blue mech had frozen, watching the approaching Fae with hesitance. Hound’s arms were still wrapped around his new bondmate from when their dance had been interrupted, but they tightened as Auger got closer.

The mech stopped in front of them, his optics went completely white.

“When the shiver of Winter rejoins with the brilliance of Summer the hues of gold and green will burst forth. The Mirror will shatter and unleash The Great Storm. Only Glorious Fire wielded by love will stop all from being consumed by Ice.”

Dead silence met the mech’s words. Mirage was clutching onto Hound. Augur’s optics returned to normal and he snorted derisively, “Let us hope your _love_ is enough.”

Augur laughed uproariously as if he’d just told a hilarious joke.

Jazz had officially had enough. He didn’t care who this mech was. As far as Jazz was concerned, he was an uninvited guest. And Jazz was more than happy to use his position as Keeper to throw the mech out on his aft.

But before he could take even a step towards the unwanted visitor, the Winter King swept between the unhinged seer and the bonded couple with a blast of frigid wind. Augur stumbled back a few steps, laughter cutting off.

And then the Winter King _spoke_. He didn’t have a voice, but a deep sound reverberated in Jazz’s helm, like enormous bells. It felt like the low, echoing sound was vibrating his whole frame.

_ENOUGH. YOU HAVE SOWN ENOUGH DISCORD. LEAVE OR I SHALL LEVEL ANOTHER CURSE UPON YOU._

Augur seemed to shrink under the Winter King’s tolling words. “Your Majesty-”

A discordant cacophony rattled the room. _BE GONE._

Augur disappeared in a swirl of snow.

The Winter King tuned to the newly bonded couple and gently placed his clawed servos on their helms. Whatever passed between them made the two of them relax. 

The party continued slowly after that, bots still a bit unsettled. But eventually, they seemed to put the seer out of their processors.

At the end of the dark-cycle, or what felt like the end of the dark-cycle (Fae magic was weird and timey-wimey), Mirage and Hound bid their guests goodbye so that they could leave for their honeymoon. It was another mortal tradition that they had decided to adopt. Fae didn’t usually leave their Court after bonding, but since Hound and Mirage were from different Courts, they’d opted to go somewhere private to celebrate their union.

After much hugging, servo shaking and farewell wishes, Hound and Mirage left.

The gathering wound down, guests leaving in small groups until only Trailbreaker, the creators and the monarchs remained. Prowl had stayed as well, having shooed the slightly tipsy pack members home. Ricochet and Bee had left with the pack, or more specifically, with Smokescreen and Barricade respectively. 

The four monarchs took up positions at the four corners of the room and carefully unwove the enchantments they had placed earlier. As the room shrank back to its original size, the truesight that had been given to Jazz faded. It felt as if the room was emptying of the overstuffing of magic. With a bow to Jazz, the monarchs took their leave. 

Gambol and Bivouac were effusive with their thanks. Hound’s carrier even went so far as to hug Jazz in thanks for his creation’s happiness. Hyperborean was more reserved giving him a slight nod. Then they left as well.

As Jazz turned to talk to Trailbreaker, a wave of sleepiness washed over him.

The witch seemed to sense his fatigue and smiled gently. “I think it is time for me to head out. You have had quite the full evening.”

“Wait.” Jazz said, “Before ya go, I jus’ wanted t’ know if tha’ mech tha’ showed up was jus’ messin’ with ‘Raj an’ Hound or if we need t’ watch out fo’ ‘im?”

Trailbreaker sighed. “Augur often shows up at Fae gatherings where he is not wanted. He won’t be an active problem, I assure you. It takes quite a lot of agitation to incur the Winter King’s wrath, so I believe Augur has been chastised quite thoroughly.” He paused, thinking. “Still… his prediction along with the shift in magic bares a watchful optic.”

“I thought ya said tha’ it was jus’ their magic settlin’.”

“Yes… but it has been a very long time since magic from opposing Courts has mingled.” He fell silent again for a moment, then said reassuringly, “I will keep a watch on things. No harm shall come to my friends if I can prevent it.”

Jazz nodded, put at ease by Trailbreaker’s assurance.

Following the witch’s departure, Jazz looked around The Beat, finding it spotless and clean. In fact, it looked cleaner than it had before the spell had been cast. Maybe the Fae had done him a little extra favor, he thought with amusement.

He didn’t fight when Prowl coaxed him out of The Beat and up to his apartment. As he curled up with his beastformer, he wondered if Prowl had been inspired by the ceremony. Currently the beastformer was idly stroking Jazz’s chestplates. There was no intent to arouse, just contemplation.

If Prowl brought it up, Jazz could see himself saying yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small clarification that noone asked for: Truesight is a fae gift that allows someone to see the true nature of everyone around them. Othersight is a demonic ability that allows them to see any other-worlders around them. Hence why Jazz's Keeper runes show up under truesight but not othersight.


End file.
